


The Bet

by BECandCall



Series: 350 [7]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Campfires, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Funny, Implied Sexual Content, Light-Hearted, M/M, One Shot, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BECandCall/pseuds/BECandCall
Summary: Varric and Dorian love placing bets.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Series: 350 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251002
Kudos: 40





	The Bet

“Whaddya think?” Varric asked in a raspy whisper that was either conspiratorial, or lacking his morning tea. “Who’s coming out first?”

Dorian considered carefully, chewing a toughened strip of dried meat. He detested the stuff, but he needed to stall. 

“Quite the quandary,” he finally said. “How do we know they’re both in there?” 

“You wanna go that route, Sparkler?” Varric chuckled. “Be my guest, but ante up soon. They’re early risers.” 

“Who’re we talking about?” Iron Bull swaggered over, conspicuously sitting next to Dorian, draping one thick arm across his shoulders - which Dorian promptly removed. Bull pouted, feigning offense as he took a swig from his canteen.

This was a common performance between them; Varric ignored it. All around, the camp was stirring with the dawn. A bird chirped insistently from a tree branch, guards rotated shifts, scouts swapped reports. 

Then, the leftmost tent in the row before them shifted, hurried whispers hissing within. 

“Now or never, Sparkler.” 

“Terms?” 

Varric considered, grimacing at the pain in his jaw from his own jerky. “Loser makes dinner tonight? I’m pretty sure these rations are actual bird food.” 

To emphasize his point, he tossed the remainder to that noisy bird, who proceeded to ignore it and continue chirping. 

“Brilliant!” Dorian brightened. “I almost hope I lose. I’m still recovering from your last turn as chef.” 

“Quit stalling and call it!” 

“Cullen!” 

“Mark it, Tiny. No welching.” 

“I don’t get a bet?” Iron Bull asked. 

But they were in that moment interrupted as Cullen emerged from the tent, eliciting a muttered curse from Varric and a round of applause from the guards. He bore the attention for barely a heartbeat before bellowing in his best Commander voice to the laughing crowd. 

“Enough! Back to your duties!” 

The lot scurried, throwing back jibes and congratulations as they went. 

A second form rose from the tent, bleary-eyed but smiling as she crossed over to the campfire. A glance between Varric’s scowl and Dorian’s smug grin told the Inquisitor all she needed to know. She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“What was the bet this time?”


End file.
